


Very Art House

by Shaddyr



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: First Kiss, First Meetings, M/M, SGA AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-17 05:03:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1374805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaddyr/pseuds/Shaddyr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“This isn't a commercial for underwear, is it?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Very Art House

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to the incomparable Outsideth3box for tireless beta duties!

Sheppard set two glasses on the marble counter and then picked up the decanter of scotch. As he poured two fingers in each glass, he reflected on the fact that his agent really was insane. Well connected, yes, and very good at lining up work for him, but still, completely batshit crazy.

He handed Clive one of the glasses and then cradled the other between his hands. “You’re sure this is a serious job? That it’s really just an advertisement for clothing?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” Clive said as he sniffed his glass. “Completely on the up and up." 

Sheppard rolled his eyes and knocked back half his glass in one swallow, then peered suspiciously at Clive as a thought occurred to him. “This isn't a commercial for underwear, is it?”

“God, no!” Clive assured him. “Women's clothing, actually. And it’s not so much a commercial really - it’s more a short film,” he explained before pausing to take a sip of the scotch. He let out a satisfied sigh. “Ahh, that’s the stuff.” He turned back to Sheppard. “It’ll be black and white. You know the type; less is more, very simple. They’re all about capturing the real story, the genuine reaction. Very art house.”

Sheppard frowned. “I don’t know if this is really my thing, Clive.”

Clive brushed off the comment with a shake of his head. “It’ll be a couple hours of work at most, and they’re paying for a full day. What have you got to lose?”

Sheppard glanced around the office, his eyes lingering on the posters and still shots of different actors Clive represented. A framed still from his last TV show featured prominently amidst the other stars featured there. He’d earned some critical acclaim for that role, and he was proud of it… but this? “It sounds a little… skeevy,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I kind of like having a reputation as a serious actor.”

“Look, you can trust me on this,” Clive said as he snagged a handful of peanuts out of the bowl on the table. He popped a few in his mouth, taking a moment to chew and swallow before continuing. “It’s a legitimate film, all above board, commissioned by a small but popular clothing label in LA. I’ve referred three other clients who’ve already signed on. You’ll go meet some people, socialize a bit, and then just - let things follow along naturally!”

Sheppard gave him a dubious look. “And by naturally, you mean making out with complete strangers on camera?”

“You've kissed more than a few guest stars on Mindgames,” Clive reminded him. “How is this different?”

“Every one of my on-screen kisses was part of a story,” Sheppard argued. “It’s not the same when I’m in character; I’m just playing a role. It’ not - me.” He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “And if you want *me* to kiss someone, that someone is going to be a man.”

“John, JOHN! You’re killing me, man!” Clive shook his head and let out a sigh. “You *know* the ratings you get on-screen with an attractive woman on your arm. You’re an ACTOR, can’t you just - act?”

Sheppard crossed his arms, pursing his lips as he studied the other man. “You just finished telling me the whole point of this commercial-”

“Short film!” he interjected and Sheppard sighed.

“Short film then, whatever,” he said. “I thought the whole point of this thing was to capture real, genuine reactions? And NOT to act?”

Clive set his glass down on the bar then threw his hands up in exasperation. “Look, you don’t have anything till you read for that new SciFi show next week. Just go to the shoot, meet the other actors, see if anything sparks. Maybe there’ll be a nice girl there who doesn’t make your skin crawl.” He let out a bark of laughter. “What the hell, maybe there’ll be a good looking guy you have fabulous on-screen chemistry with. I don’t think most of your fans give a shit if you’re gay or straight. Anyway, go. If you absolutely hate it, fake a queasy stomach and leave.”

“I don’t do things like that, Clive,” Sheppard growled. “It’s unprofessional.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Clive agreed with a nod. “And it would be unprofessional for you to not show up when I already told them you would.”

Sheppard’s jaw dropped. “You did WHAT?!”

“Oh, just shut up,” Clive snapped as he dropped into the love seat and glared up at Sheppard. “You know I’m going to argue you into it. You could use the paycheck and I could use the commission, so can we just skip this part? They expect you Wednesday at 8 am.”

“I really hate you sometimes,” John said sincerely.

“I know, I’m an asshole, payday Friday. Now pour me another drink.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Rodney stood off near the far wall in the green room and nursed his coffee. He was surrounded by beautiful people and feeling more uncomfortable by the second. His attention was caught by the diminutive girl with the short blond hair that seemed to exude energy, but then his eyes were drawn to the lean-muscled, dark haired guy with a gorgeous smile. He pulled his gaze away before he could get caught staring and ended up engrossed by the half sleeve tattoos gracing the arms of the short, blond man across the room. He startled when the man caught his eye and smiled. He gave a sickly smile back then turned away and stared into his coffee cup.

As soon as this was over, he was going to Clive’s office and beating him to death with one of his stupid awards for bullying Rodney into this. And then he was going to work his way methodically through every single bottle in the man’s bar. He hated that he was so broke that he'd no choice but to take this gig – he had bills to pay and a guy's gotta eat.

“Hello, everyone,” a voice cut through his whirling thoughts and he looked over to find the director standing in the middle of the room. Everyone else had turned to face her as well. She smiled around the assembled group.

“Thank you for *not* engaging each other in conversation while you waited,” she said with a laugh. “I understand that’s very difficult for many of you.” Most of the actors chuckled along. “Based on the preferences you specified when you checked in today, you’ve each been assigned a partner of the preferred sex whom you have not previously met. Wardrobe is going to take care of those of you who are modeling clothing, and then each couple will be called to shoot their scene. This may be hard to believe, but I only plan to keep you for 15-20 minutes. Once you’re done, you’re free to go. The check, as they say, will be in the mail tomorrow.”

Everyone looked around and as the buzz of conversation broke out, the director raised her hand. “Please, remember, I don’t want you to get to know each other before your scene, so please, no chatter.” She suddenly had a devilish glint in her eye. “But if anyone decides they want to get to know each other better *after* the shoot, there’s a fantastic little sandwich place about two blocks from here that makes the *best* pastrami on rye in the city.”

Rodney rolled his eyes as everyone laughed, speculatively eyeing the people around them. He was sure whoever got stuck with him was just going to close their eyes and think of the paycheck. He took a quick glance around the room and noted there was an even male female ratio. He’d indicated on his form that he was amenable to either sex, but with the numbers being even, chances were it would be woman. He really hoped it would be one of the blondes.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Sheppard was bored. For the first half hour, his DS was a welcome distraction from the monotony, but after a while he had to move or he was going to start climbing the walls.

He tried to be unobtrusive as he paced the room. He wandered over to the refreshment table and poured himself a glass of water as perused the remnants of the snack trays with little interest. After that, he sauntered along the side wall, stopping half way to pull out his phone and check for email.

He leaned a hip against the wall, crossing one leg behind the other as he balanced on one foot. With one hand, he deftly navigated through his email while lifting his glass to his lips with the other. Unsurprisingly, he found no new messages, so he wasted time link-jumping through a multitude a time-wasting internet sites until he lost interest.

Sheppard yawned and stretched, then tucked his phone away and resumed his slow circuit of the room. His glance brushed over the grumpy guy at the back of the room. The guy looked up briefly, but when he caught John's glance, he jerked away, gaze fixing on his phone as though his life depended on it.

John had noticed the guy as soon as he'd come into the green room that morning. He'd made a beeline straight for the coffee, and then separated himself from everyone else. At first, John had figured the guy thought he was too good for commercial work, and stayed aloof to distance himself from the rest of them. But his reactions to the other people in the room – dropping his gaze if anyone caught his eye, blushing when he looked at anyone intently for too long, the surreptitious and longing glances at some of the more attractive folks – told a different story. Grumpy guy was actually painfully self-conscious, and he was piquing John's curiosity in a way no one had for a while now.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Rodney played the game on his phone while surreptitiously glancing around the room. There were only 6 people left including himself, three women and two other men.

He was making every effort to ignore the men. One of them made it easy by sitting at the front of the room and keeping to himself. Unfortunately, the other one couldn't seem to keep still. He was seriously *smoking* hot, toned and lithe, and judging from the way he’d been slouching and leaning as he’d ricocheted around the room for the last two hours, extremely bendy in mind blowing sexy-times ways that Rodney was trying hard NOT to think about. It was difficult to avoid looking up at him every time he strolled by, and it was making Rodney twitchy. It almost felt like the guy was doing it on purpose.

All three of the women were very attractive in different ways; while he wouldn't object to kissing the brunet with the big curls, it was the two blonds who really caught his attention. He glanced over to where they sat near one another. One was the sleek, sexy energy ball who’d tweaked his interest earlier. The other was curvy and feminine, but quiet, with a placid grace about her. The two just seemed to fit together in his mind, and he suddenly wondered what they would look like together, bodies pressed up close, mouths fused, arms wrapped round each other –

He jerked his gaze away angrily and focused on his game. It was going to be very unprofessional if he went into this with a hard-on before it even started.

The lady with the clipboard who had summoned each of the previous couples appeared at the door. “John Sheppard and Meredith McKay.”

Rodney’s eyes snapped up and he opened his mouth to protest the name but he was interrupted before he could get a word out.

“I’m afraid there must be a mistake,” said Smoking Hot Guy.

Rodney felt his jaw drop open. Oh, God. *This* was who he was paired with? He tried to speak again but nothing came out.

Clipboard lady looked confused. “I… don’t understand.”

As Rodney watched, hot guy - no, Sheppard - gave each of the women an apologetic smile and then looked back at clipboard lady. “I stated on the form that I prefer men,” he said. “I’m not willing to kiss a woman. Sorry.”

The other man in the room glanced over at Rodney nervously and then started shaking his head and Rodney finally found his voice. “Uhm… I’m Meredith,” he said.

Sheppard looked over at him, his expression a mixture of surprise and relief. Rodney gave him a wan smile before glaring at the clipboard lady. “I know I wrote Rodney on that form, so I don’t even know where you got that name from,” he grumbled as he put away his phone and headed toward the door.

She shrugged. “It was on the form your agent sent in,” she said as she waved him and Sheppard down the hall. “Sorry.”

Rodney let out a huff of annoyance. "Clive, you asshole," he muttered, and was startled with Sheppard jerked to a halt beside him. He stopped and gave the other man a puzzled look.

"Hey," protested clipboard lady, but Sheppard ignored her and looked intently at Rodney. "Clive Barston?"

"You know him?" Rodney asked in surprise.

Sheppard chuckled. "You might say that since he's my agent."

"Huh," Rodney said, nonplussed.

Clipboard lady had had enough. "You aren't supposed to converse before the shoot," she reminded them. "Now please, let's go," she said, using her clipboard to motion down the hall.

"Sorry," Sheppard said, giving her a charming smile, then glanced back over at Rodney and winked before setting off down the hallway.

"Huh," Rodney said again, following after a moment. This was certainly unexpected. Maybe he wouldn't beat Clive to death after all.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Sheppard had a case of the nerves like he hadn't felt since high school.

That instant when he thought he'd been paired up with a woman had just sealed it for him. He didn't care anymore if it affected his career. He was tired of hiding who he was just in case it affected what role he might be cast in. He would happily do whatever the role called for, with no complaint, but in his private life, he was only kissing who he wanted to kiss. And right now, that was a somewhat grumpy guy with an oddly slanted mouth and amazing blue eyes.

John had been wondering why someone so clearly self-conscious had taken this job, but if Clive was his agent, he'd probably been railroaded into the gig against his will. It was one thing to go into a job knowing that your co-worker would be acting enthralled with kissing you because they're a professional and it's the job they're being paid for; it was another to worry that you might end up paired with someone who didn't want to kiss you, or worse, was repulsed by the very idea. Rodney looked like a guy who was terribly worried about that very thing.

John smirked. Well, he'd certainly be happy to relieve Rodney of that foolish notion. He was a pretty handsome guy, and he really did have gorgeous eyes. And he was solid. John liked that in a man, something to hold onto while they were kissing, enough bulk to pin him up against a wall or down on the bed – yeah. He would happily and without reservation kiss the hell out of Rodney for a few minutes. With any luck, it would be a pleasurable experience for both of them, and maybe Rodney would even walk away from the shoot feeling more attractive and desirable.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

The hallway led to a large sound stage. It looked like any shoot, tall, hot lights lighting the set with several different cameras positioned to catch every angle, sound booms just overhead, out of the shot. The controlled chaos that was the hallmark of every production reigned supreme, with PAs running and fetching, the AD calling out orders, and camera men making adjustments. 

Sheppard glanced over at Rodney and found him staring doubtfully at the barren set. The backdrop was plain white and there was no furniture or props, just a vast expanse of nothing.

"Less is more, my ass," Rodney muttered, and Sheppard let out a snort of laughter. Rodney's gaze whipped around to fixate on him and he explained.

"Less is more? Very art house?" he asked with a wry grin.

Rodney nodded, answering the grin with his own. "Looks like Clive was right about that, at least," he said.

At that moment, the director walked up and introduced herself. "I'm Melinda."

Rodney opened his mouth to speak, but Melinda reached out a hand and rested a finger gently over his lips. "Shh. Not another word until you're in front of the cameras." She turned to John. "You are… scruffy. Over there, sit," she directed, pushing John toward the chair at the makeup mirror.

"JOAN!" she yelled across the cavernous room. A head popped up from behind a rack of costumes.

"Yes, m'ilady?"

"Shave this one. I want him on set, undamaged and smooth in 90 seconds. Go."

She turned back to Rodney and ushered him in front of the cameras, studying him critically as she turned him one way then another. He was just starting to get nervous when she nodded. "You're perfect."

Rodney blurted out what was on his mind before he could stop himself. "But he's the one who's perfect!"

Melinda blinked. "Really," she said speculatively. "Hmm. Well, alright then." She turned away from Rodney to yell. "JOAN! Belay that order. I want him on set, as is, right now."

"Aye, Aye!" came a response, and seconds later, a bemused looking Sheppard joined Rodney in front of the cameras.

Melinda stood back and gave them both a long look, then lifted a hand and twirled a finger indicating they should spin around. They glanced at each other, Rodney's non-verbal "Is she for real?" met by John's silent, "let's humour the nice lady who is paying us." Each of them turned round, stopping when they'd gone full circle and were looking at the director again.

She let out an amused huff. "You guys just can’t stop talking, can you?" She chuckled at the look she got from both of them, then backed off stage, out of the range of the cameras. She snapped fingers at someone and moments later, a clap board was snapped in front of one of the cameras. "Okay, we're rolling. Anytime you're ready."

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

John felt his heart pounding and he sternly told himself to relax. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, rolling his shoulders to loosen up a bit. When he felt more centered, he turned to face Rodney, and his eyes widened in alarm as he took in the sickly pallor of the other man's face. Rodney looked like he was about 2 seconds away from a panic attack.

"Hey, easy there!" John said, promptly stepping closer and placing a hand on Rodney's shoulder, all thoughts of the cameras and people around them fading to the background. "Are you alright?" Rodney just stared back at him with wide eyes, and John could feel him trembling. Growing concerned, he reached and grasped Rodney's upper arm with his other hand.

"Buddy, you ok there? You’re not going to pass out on me, are you?" John asked, studying Rodney's face carefully. Rodney just stared back at him for a moment and the finally blinked and shook his head.

John let out a sigh of relief, not taking his eyes off him or relinquishing his hold. Rodney was still shaking under his hands, and he didn't want to chance letting him go just yet. He was clearly far more freaked out by this than he'd let on; he was obviously a hell of an actor, you had to give him kudos for that. He needed to do something to break the tension, so he let his mouth curl into a sheepish grin.

"Man, I didn't realize that kissing me was going to be such a hardship," he said, using that 'aww shucks' self-deprecating tone that had served him well in numerous situations. The effect on Rodney was instantaneous, but not in the way he'd planned. Instead of laughing it off, the other man looked mortified and tried to pull away.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Hey, whoa!" John reacted without thinking, sliding his hand from Rodney's shoulder along his side and around his back. He reeled him in closer and lifted his free hand to gently cup Rodney's face. Rodney struggle briefly, one hand going to John's chest as if to push him away, but instead, his hand fisted in the fabric of John's shirt while the other settled uncertainly on John's side.

John got lost in those blue eyes for a moment before he came back himself. Rodney was breathing rapidly and John could feel his pulse thumping madly under his fingers.

If he hadn't known any better, he'd have believed that Rodney was terrified of him, but pressed up close like they were, it was clear that at least part of Rodney was very ok with their current circumstances. He let his thumb sweep out over Rodney's bottom lip, and his eyes fluttered closed. Sheppard felt Rodney clenching at his shirt as he struggled to keep his eyes open.

"So," John asked, his voice strained and husky, "You want to tell me what that was all about?"

Rodney cleared his throat. "I… ah, I'm a little nervous…"

"Yeah, I got that," John replied, letting his thumb sweep out over that bottom lip again. It gave him a little rush to see how the simple motion derailed Rodney completely. "Go on."

Rodney drew a shuddering breath before continuing. "It wasn't about you. I mean, it was – it is – but not like that, they way you implied, I mean, kissing you, it's not a hardship," he babbled, trying to explain.

John smirked. "I'm relieved to hear that," he said as he let the hand on Rodney's back wander up and down, drawing swoops and swirls with his fingertips, thoroughly enjoying the reaction it elicited in Rodney. "So, do you think we could, then?"

Rodney's expression was foggy and befuddled. "We could what?"

John forced back a smirk and stilled his hand. "Kiss, Rodney. Is it ok if I kiss you now?"

John thought he'd have to work up to it slowly, maybe start by kissing the corner of Rodney's mouth, dropping butterfly-soft kisses on his lips. Then, he'd coax Rodney's mouth open with a gentle and insistent tongue, then nibble on that lush bottom lip, all the while caressing Rodney's face, calming him with soft strokes of his fingers up and down Rodney's back.

Reality was nothing like what he'd expected. Rodney surged up against him, causing John to stumble back a step before he found his equilibrium. Rodney's arm wrapped around John's lower back like a band of iron, melding them together, and his fingers fisted in John's hair, firmly holding him in place as Rodney systematically kissed him senseless.

John opened up before the assault, falling headlong into hot, wet desire. Rodney kissed him like it was a quest, discovering his mouth, exploring his lips, nipping and tasting and licking, leaving no part unexamined. It seemed like forever and like no time at all when Rodney relaxed his grip, nipped gently at John's lower lip, and finally stepped back.

It was John's turn to stare, bemused, at Rodney. He was shaken by the intensity of the kiss. He'd been in long term relationships that had been less passionate than the kiss they'd just shared. The director's voice cut across his thoughts, yanking him out of his reverie, and he looked over at her.

"That was great, guys," she said as she looked at the playback on one of the cameras. "Just give me a minute to review the footage here and see if we have enough."

John nodded, then shifted his attention back to Rodney. He was fidgeting; bouncing on the balls of his feet with his arms clasped tightly in front of him, but the nervousness from earlier was gone. He was watching the director for further instructions wearing a very satisfied smile on his face. John felt his own mouth curl up in response.

"Hey," he said, and Rodney glanced over at him. He immediately dropped his gaze to the floor, but this time it was with a shy grin and the merest suggestion of a giggle. John found himself drifting closer, and without consciously intending to, his hands came to rest lightly on Rodney's hips.

"Hey," Rodney replied, lifting his hands to settle them on John's chest, fingertips brushing his shoulders. He looked up at John through his eyelashes and John felt a jolt of pure lust shot through him, and he couldn't help tightening his grip. He realized everything he was feeling must be showing on his face because Rodney's expression suddenly changed, vacillating between disbelief and want. John licked his lips and smirked at how Rodney's eyes tracked the movement before growing hot with desire. They needed to get the hell out of this studio.

He cleared his throat, then looked over to where the director was still reviewing the footage. "So, are we good, or do you need us to kiss some more?" he asked.

The director said something to the camera man who nodded and started making some adjustments. She nodded then turned back to address them.

"No, actually, we got what we needed. You're good to go," she replied. She took a clipboard one of the P.A.'s handed her, made a notation and handed it back. "Thank you for your time. Trish will see you out." With that, they were summarily dismissed.

A chipper young PA came running over. "Hi, I'm Trish, this way please, and watch your step –"

John trailed behind as she steered them around the cameras and random piles of equipment. His gaze lingered on the broad shoulders he'd so recently grasped, his fingers twitching at the remembered warmth of Rodney's back. As Trish ushered them out of the studio with a cheery wave, he struggled to come up with something to say, but words escaped him. He was ready to just go with "Hey," again, since it seemed to convey a wealth of meaning the last time, but Rodney spoke before he could.

"Thanks for being a good sport," Rodney said, words rushed and a little breathless. He glanced at John before looking away, colour staining his cheeks. "It was… nice."

John let out a huff of laughter. "It was more than nice," he replied and when Rodney looked back at him, he continued. "It was a lot more than nice."

"Well, of course, it was really quite excellent," Rodney agreed, and the surprised pleasure on his face left John feeling oddly annoyed; angry at whatever or whoever had caused Rodney to think he was not desirable. He was still feeling tingly from that kiss, and not quite ready to let this oddly attractive, grumpy yet sexy man walk away from him, and it left him feeling a little brash and reckless.

"Are you hungry?"

Rodney cocked an eyebrow. "I could eat."

"I have it on good authority that there's a great little sandwich joint not far from here," John said, a slight smile playing around his lips. "I was thinking a turkey sandwich just might hit the spot. How 'bout you?"

"I might have turkey at my place," Rodney blurted out. "Okay, I probably don't, but I know I have chicken," he continued, studying John nervously. "Sorry, I suppose that's too forward, of course you'd rather go to the sandwich place, I mean, why would you want to-"

John cut him off. "I'm good with chicken."

"You are?" Rodney smiled as John nodded. "Well, great. That's really great!"

John looked around. "Where are you parked?" he asked. "I'll just follow you back to your place."

"I took a cab," Rodney said. "My old car died. I haven't bought a new one yet."

"I guess you'll be navigating then," John said, directing Rodney over to his car. Rodney stopped short when he realized which vehicle John was ushering him toward.

"THIS is your car?" he asked, voice pitching up slightly at the end.

John frowned. "Is there a problem with my car?"

Rodney stared at the cherry red 1967 Mustang convertible. It was hot, sunny day and the roof was retracted, showing off the pristine red leather interior. "No, not with the car. The car is fantastic, amazing even. It's just that, in my experience, guys like you usually drive cars like this insanely fast and tend to regard traffic rules as suggestions to be followed as whim dictates, not as actual laws that apply to them personally." Rodney looked up at him with a pleading look. "Please don't kill me."

John stepped in to crowd Rodney up against the passenger door, and curled his hands over the top of the retracted window, trapping Rodney there. "Guys like me?" he asked silkily, smirking as he noted how Rodney's eyes glazed over as he swallowed convulsively.

"You know, ridiculously hot, unbelievably sexy guys like you," he explained, eyes fixed on John's lips.

John leaned in, pressing right up against Rodney, mouth right next to his ear. "I promise I'll be gentle," he murmured, then pulled away to walk around to the driver's side. When he got there, Rodney was still leaning up against the side of the car, looking dazed. "Well, get in," he said with a laugh, prompting Rodney to glare at him and open his door. John just swung himself over the door and slid behind the wheel.

"Showoff," muttered Rodney as he settled in and did up his seat belt.

John grinned as he started the car. "So, where are we going?"

Rodney gave him quick instructions and John pulled out into traffic. He could already tell that Rodney was the kind who would start to freak out and second guess himself if he didn't have something to distract him, so he figured asking him about work might be a good way to draw him out.

"Any projects on the horizon? Auditions coming up?" he asked.

"Well, there is this new SciFi pilot that I'm auditioning for next week…"

**Author's Note:**

> There was [this video](http://www.boredpanda.com/first-kiss-strangers-kissing-tatiana-pilieva/) that made the rounds recently that caught my attention. It turned out that it was an advertisement for women's clothing of all things, but I never would have known. The kisses had me entranced.
> 
> The premise was 20 people who have never before met and introduced for the first time and then kiss for the camera. It's supposed to be all unscripted and the real, true and honest reactions of the people doing the kissing.
> 
> Was it really all genuine? Were they just acting? Hell, I don't know. Some were sweet, some very loving, some were shy, some were wild - but they were all amazing and lovely. 
> 
> Of course, *I* started wondering what would have happened it John and Rodney had met this way...


End file.
